


Wrong

by Ely



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied Yooran at the very end, M/M, Mental Instability, Pining, Spoilers, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ely/pseuds/Ely
Summary: Saeran knew it was wrong. He fucking knew it. He wasn’t an idiot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's block can suck my ass

Saeran knew it was wrong. He fucking knew it. He wasn’t an idiot.

But he couldn’t stop himself. After repressing his feelings for so long, he couldn’t stop them when they all came crashing back to him in a flurry of colours and shapes and things he didn’t even realise could make him feel.

They took him by surprise. At first he didn’t know what they meant or how he was supposed to deal with them. But there was one feeling which stood out among the rest. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong when he caught himself staring at her for slightly too long. He knew it was wrong when he found his face heating up when she smiled at him. He knew it was wrong when he felt butterflies in his stomach when she hugged him. He knew it was wrong when he found his eyes wandering to her thighs when she was wearing a skirt that was slightly too short. He knew it was wrong when he found himself thinking of those thighs while touching himself at night. He knew it was wrong that he wanted to scream when he saw her kissing his brother.

She wasn’t his. She never would be.

But, despite him knowing it was wrong, he couldn’t help it when he closed his eyes and dreamt of her fingertips brushing his face, and her lips pressing against his, and the words “I love you, Saeran” falling from them as she pulled away. It was all a fantasy. He never deserved to be happy.

He’d hurt her. He’d almost killed her. He’d _wanted_ to kill her. Any relationship they might possibly ever have, romantic or otherwise, would always be tainted by that. It was toxic. _He_ was toxic. He didn’t deserve her kindness.

It only made it harder when she was nice. The fact that when he was having one of his ‘episodes’, she was the only one who could calm him down… it disgusted him. There was no way in hell he deserved to be close to her, and he was worried his brother was beginning to notice that he only ever seemed to let her in, and not him.

Was this love? He didn’t know. He had no idea what love really was. Ever since his mind had been brutally twisted and his sanity mercilessly destroyed, he didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with feelings. He used to only feel anger. Now he felt everything.

His doctor said it was ‘progress’, but if progress hurt this much he didn’t want it. If his life was destined to be this painful, he would rather die.

But he felt _everything_. Unfortunately, that included fear of death.

His head was a whirlwind, and she was the only thing that seemed solid to him. He was distancing himself, sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of his mind in the hope that he would one day never return.

But Saeyoung noticed. Of course he fucking did. He ruined everything.

He pushed him to recover, but Saeran didn’t want to recover. He didn’t want to live but he didn’t want to die either. He simply wanted to stop existing.

One day there was a quiet knock at his door, and Saeran yelled at them to piss off. It was either his brother or her, and he knew for a fact he didn’t want to face either of them. Not now, not ever.

But the knock sounded again. He yelled at them again.

There was a pause. Then a knock. Saeran let out a scream of frustration before getting off his bed and storming towards the door, yanking it open, and screaming “What?”

But he wasn’t greeted by his brother, and he wasn’t greeted by her. He was greeted by a pair of purple eyes, a head of blond hair and a smile that melted through even Saeran’s cold heart.

What was this feeling?

“Hi,” said the boy, “I’m Yoosung.”

Hope. It was hope.


End file.
